This is a largely anonymous collection of naughty poetry published in the late 30s by Peter Pauper Press. One imagines the authors were tittering the entire time. By today's standards it seems pretty tame, even quaint. It's sad that no one is now moved to wax rhapsodic about what passes for the bombshell ladies of today as this collection does about Mae West, Diamond Lil and other fallen fair ones. There are far too many distractions these days for a muse to reach out and inspire one to write about bed wetting or being trapped in an outhouse. Mildly amusing, and best read aloud to your intimates after a few snorts. ( )